


Some of this isn't bad

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Female Reader, Reader-Insert, Trope-bashing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 19:04:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5882077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Becky invites one of her favorite fanfic writers to host a reading at the Fourth annual Supernatural fan con, then convinces the Winchesters that she won't release a sensitive picture she took of Sam if they show up this year.</p><p>Dean doesn't like fanfic. Dean thinks it's all ridiculous with horrible dialogue and he's sure that all the writers are Becky copies. Socially inept, stalkers who don't understand the meaning of brothers. The woman on stage, though... She is nothing like Becky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some of this isn't bad

**Author's Note:**

> Not intentionally bashing anyone's fics, just complaining on Becky's brand of fiction.
> 
> Trying my hand at a reader insertion. Haven't done one since I was writing anime fic back in middle school. If it's good, let me know. And if you feel it's good enough that you want more reader inserts from me, I might be up to requests. Lemme know what you think.

You were nervous, sitting on that stage, waiting for your turn. This was different from posting your fanfic to tumblr. Not only was stage fright a real thing that you'd always struggled with, you knew that your fic was nothing like the other fics. Definitely different than the master of ceremonies' fics. You weren't even sure why Becky had invited you to read. She'd said that she was a fan, but when comparing her catalog of work to yours, they were vastly different. She was wincest and destiel and a surprising number of solo Sam fics, where you tried hard not to fall into tropes, tried to maintain Carver Edlund's continuity. The other writers on the stage weren't much better than Becky, and you began to question the reasoning behind Becky inviting you.

"Probably just needed someone to read something het." You mumbled to yourself.

Another writer was reading. It was a sex pollen story in the form of 'Sam has to fuck Dean or die'. There was an under story of Dean being hopelessly in love with Sam since they were both young. You had long ago stopped listening. You were watching Becky now. She was across the auditorium, near the door, talking to a Dean and a Sam. Their costumes were simple, and inaccurate (where was Dean's amulet and the leather jacket), but they looked perfect to you. Becky was hanging on the Sam, who looked like he was contemplating running for his life. You couldn't really blame him. The Dean seemed to be arguing with Becky, who just shook her head. She pointed to a pair of empty chairs, then ran up to the stage as the other writer finished their excerpt.

"That was a great story! Yay! Now, here's one of my favorite writers, based on ability, if not content." Becky was condescending when it came to content. She definitely thought her tropes were better than your work. "Reading an excerpt from her story  **Barmaid is an Archaic Term** , _y/n_!"

You stood on slightly shaky legs and walked to the podium. You cleared your throat. "I know it is not as popular as the stuff Becky writes, the stuff most of you write, but I write het mostly, so..." You cleared your throat. " **Barmaid is an Archaic Term,** is a Dean fic with an OFC. It's set after Bloody Mary." The Dean in the audience smacked the back of Becky's head. She turned to him and you could swear you saw her mouth form the words 'just listen'.

 _ **"** **Sammy, you have to sleep."**   _You put on a deep gravel voice _. **Dean could see the exhaustion on his brother's face, but more, he could see it in his posture, in the way Sam's fingers fumbled on the keyboard of his laptop.**_

_**"Dean, I'm fine. I got three hours this morning."** _

_**"Yeah, that was before you got thrown through a wall by that ghoul."** _

_**"Dean, I'm okay." Sam insisted, everything about him telling his brother to back off, even if he wasn't using those words.** _

_**Dean stood, grabbing his jacket off of the back of the little motel room chair. "Fine. I'm going to go get a drink. If you aren't asleep when I get back, I'm gonna hold you down and force feed you a damn sedative. I am not playin', Sammy. You sleep or I will knock your ass out."** _

_**Sam scoffed as Dean wrapped himself in the leather that was his second skin, but he knew his brother wasn't lying. He rubbed his eyes and turned off the laptop, flopping onto his bed and letting sleep take him. Dean nodded, happily and walked out of the motel room.** _

_**The bar was small, just one pool table and two dart boards, and an old jukebox that Dean made a beeline for. Old country stared up at him, but what should he expect from a twenty year old jukebox in east Texas?"** _

Your eyes focused in on the Dean cosplayer sitting next to Becky. His face had changed from annoyed to curious.

_**"A smile tugged at his lips as he found the Holy Grail of old jukebox songs. He deposited his quarter and hit his buttons, and as the first several chords of Houses of the Holy poured out of the speakers, Dean walked up to the bar. The bald man with the grey beard nodded as Dean sat on a stool.** _

_**"Beer."** _

_**"Ooh, I love this song." A voice trilled from the back room. Dean's eyes shot to the door of the backroom as a blue-eyed blond danced out.** _

_**"It's a damn good song. One of my favorites. I** ** _t_ is the best song on that jukebox. You know, I can't think of a bad Zeppelin song. Can you?"** _

_**Dean smirked, taking a drink of the beer that had been placed in front of him. "Not a one, Miss..." He trailed off, turning to the woman.** _

_**"Darla. Well, it's Darlene, but have you ever heard a name more country than 'Darlene'?" She asked, leaning over the bar in front of him. The bald man grunted at her, before disappearing into the backroom.** _

_**"Reba?" Dean offered. "Dolly? Tammy? I could keep going."** _

_**"Got me there. What's your name?" She asked. His eyes trailed down her pale face to the curve of her cleavage in her black tank top.** _

_**"Dean. Winchester."** _

_**"Like the rifle?"** _

_**"Exactly like the rifle."** _

_**"You ever been to that Winchester mansion?" She asked. Dean couldn't help but notice she was leaning forward, pushing her chest out. Oh, the sweet sight of a beautiful woman flirting.** _

_**"Nah, never been."** _

_**"You don't believe in ghosts?"** _

_**"No, I believe. I just don't think they should be used as a tourist attraction."** _

Becky's Dean smirked and leaned over to say something to his Sam, who shrugged and smiled back. It gave you a surge of confidence.

**_"So, Darla... You work here?"_ **

**_The blond nodded. "Feels like I've worked here my whole life. Daddy owns the bar."_ **

**_"Big and grunty, that your dad?"_ **

**_She smiled, sweetly. "He just doesn't wanna see me flirting with random strangers."_ **

**_"And he just knew we'd be flirting, huh?"_ **

**_"Well he's known me my whole life. He definitely knows my type."_ **

**_Dean sat forward, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "And what type is that?"_ **

**_"Gorgeous, rugged, leather and steel-toed boots, and goddamn if your eyes don't sparkle. Oh and, you played my song." She leaned over and ran her hand up his arm._ **

**_Dean locked eyes with her, green eyes catching dilated blues. "Is that all you do, is flirt?"_ **

**_"If you ask my daddy, that's all I've ever done. But I've been known to have a little fun."_ **

**_Dean finished his beer and stood. "You wanna get outta here? I have a feeling you would love my car."_ **

**_"And what kinda car do you have?" She asked, walking around the bar to stand next to the door._ **

**_"It's an Impala. A thing of beauty."_ **

**_"Yeah. How big is the backseat?" She asked._ **

**_Dean chuckled, putting an arm around her shoulder and leading her out the door. "Big enough. Trust me."_ **

You cleared your throat, closing your notebook. "That's my excerpt. The smutty stuff starts right after that. I have a table at the back of the room, if you want to buy a copy of the whole story. I'm not making cash on the deal, just gotta pay for the ink, you know. 50 cents each." You said, before standing down from the stage and retreating to the back corner of the room.

3 people came up and bought a copy before two quarters landed on the table. You looked up to Becky's Dean grabbing a copy off of your stack and flipping through it. You smiled at him. "Your Dean costume is pretty awesome."

He looked down, then back up with a wide grin. "Thanks. Can you believe I had all this in my closet already?" He flipped through to the last few pages of the story, focusing intently. "This is actually really good. So, I'm going to say something and, don't get offended, follow me here." 

He rolled the story up and put it under his armpit. "I don't like fanfiction. I think it's ridiculous and poorly written by crazy people who seem to think that two brothers who care about each other have to be touching each other behind closed doors. Becky tells me that's called 'wincest' and I didn't need to know that. This, though... You capture the characters better than Edlund."

"Oh. You flatter me. They're his characters, I just borrow them. I try really hard to keep them in character. That's why I never write wincest, it's OOC. I stick to established relationships or random encounters. I was never big on wincest, but it's cool. Ever since destiel became a thing that's what takes up most of the front page."

"Des- what is that?"

"Dean/Castiel. It's wildly popular."

The Dean in front of you scoffed. "So, these people pretty much take any kind of loyalty and interpret it as sexual attraction, huh?"

"Yeah. It's kinda... they don't know the difference between romantic love and familial love. If it was just about loyalty, then there would be more Bobby fics. He's fiercely loyal."

He nodded, pulling the papers out and looking at them again. "Only complaint I have is this... where you're describing his... junk. 'Respectable, but not much bigger than average'. You call that erotica?"

You blushed and looked down at the surface of the table. "It's another one of those things, you know? One of those tropes that everybody puts in their stories. Everyone has a huge cock, right, but they wouldn't. Okay, just because you like a character, doesn't mean he's packing an anaconda. And he doesn't have to. I mean, a .357 Magnum will put a hole in your chest, but a 9 mil will kill you just the same. I always go average for the boys." You looked up at him and smiled, embarrassed. "The only one I've ever written as being 'gifted' that way, is the demon Crowley."

His eyebrow shot up. "Crowley?"

"No, think about it. Crowley is a demon. Demons not only like sex, but they get to choose their vessel. Crowley is King of the Crossroads, spends enough time on earth that he'd be able to find a vessel who's packing-"

"A .357 Mag." He finished before chuckling. "That makes so much sense. You are so logical. How... why are a part of this craziness?"

You shook your head. "The fandom... might be a bit weird, but they're family. I've gotten through some hard times because of people like... Becky." You gave a little wave to Becky, who was literally hanging on her Sam. "I don't know. Just seems like, I need to have something bigger than me to focus on."

Dean shook his head, looking at the Sam he came in with. He cleared his throat and turned back to you, green eyes shining at you. "_y/n_, can I call you _y/n_? You're a great writer. Some of this stuff in here... I've had a lot of car sex, never thought of any of this."

He cleared his throat and shot a look back at his Sam. "Can I show you something? Out in the parking lot?"

"You aren't a serial killer, are you?"

He chuckled. "Not as far as I know."

You smiled and stood, following him into the parking lot. "I never asked your name." You said, walking out into the sunlight. 

"It's Dean." You shoot him a disbelieving look and he laughed. "Swear to God."

You followed him across the blacktop outside the hotel until he stopped in front of a black Impala. "You have an Impala? Jealous!"

"This is not  _an_ Impala. This is  _the_ Impala. Come here." He said, walking around to the trunk. He pushed the key into the lock and the trunk popped open. Right off you noticed the shotgun, which he grabbed and used to hold up a false bottom. In the hidden compartment were knives and guns and a black hex box. Your eyes widened. You'd seen some people who were serious about their cosplay, but this... This was not that. He pulled a small jagged knife up and held it up for you to see. "Know what this is?"

"It's... It's the Kurdish knife. Ruby's knife. Is that..."

"It's real. All of it. Remember when Carver Edlund wrote himself into the books? As a prophet of the Lord, who was having visions of Sam and Dean and writing them down as novels?"

Your eyes widened, the implications hitting you. "This... If this is the demon killing knife-" you started, taking the knife gingerly from his hand. "-then demons are real. It's all real? Ghosts, ghouls, angels, the apocalypse?"

"Which one? You mean with Michael and Lucifer? Yeah, and a couple more since then, princess. It's all real. Your friend Becky neglected to mention that while she was posting our last name on the fan sites and writing her crappy porn."

"Becky knows? Oh, duh. She dated Edlund, didn't she? Your last name was a huge point of debate, by the way, until Becky came out to say that Carver Edlund had told her it was 'Winchester'. It's the kind of info Becky couldn't keep to herself."

"Yeah, well, if she hadn't told those crazies our name, the word 'wincest' would not exist, so..."

"But they'd still write it. They wrote it before Becky told them what to call it." Something in your mind seemed to click that you were talking to Dean. You looked up into his green eyes. "I can't believe you're real."

He smiled, leaning against the open trunk. "Can I correct you on a couple things?" He asked, pulling out the story.

"Oh, man. I'm so embarrassed, now. Yeah, of course."

"Houses of the Holy' is a fine song, but not my favorite. 'Ramble On'." He said.

"That makes sense." You said, gently placing the knife in the trunk and sitting next to him on the lip of the trunk.

"Oh, and, uh, my 'respectable above average' is more like 'enviable'. Crowley sold his soul for what I got."

Your brain couldn't decide which piece of information to process first, so you giggled as your face flushed what you could only imagine was a deep red. "Crowley sold his soul for a bigger dick?"

"Yep. 3 more inches. Said he wanted to get up to the double digits."

"Oh, my god! Then, I'm right. Crowley would definitely have picked a vessel with a huge-"

"Yeah, I don't know from experience, but knowing that bastard... how attached he is to that one meatsuit...Yeah."

Your mind moved on seamlessly to 'Dean Winchester just told me he's packing at least 10 inches.' and you could feel your face blushing deeper. You focused your gaze on the blacktop under your feet. "So..." You cleared your throat, but it was useless. The lump there didn't want to go away. "How'd Sam make it out of the Cage? 'Swan Song' made it seem like that was the end. Maybe because Edlund never wrote anything else, but it seemed like a pretty definitive... you know, ending. Sam sacrificed himself, you going to live and love with that yoga instructor and her son."

"Man, shit just gets more and more complicated with us. If Chuck was still writing our story, he'd have another 50 books by now. Let's see, I'll give you the basic. Castiel pulled Sam out of the Cage. He did it wrong, so Sam ran around without a soul for a year until I called upon our old friend Death to pull his soul out and put it back in Sammy. Crowley is now the King of Hell, took over after Lucifer got sent back. Cas was working with him behind our backs for a while in order to amass enough power to win a war against Raphael, who wanted to turn the apocalypse back on. The mother of all monsters got brought over from purgatory, we ganked her with phoenix ash. Cas took in all the souls from purgatory, went crazy with power, killed a bunch of charlatans, saved him and everyone else from himself and then he exploded into black goo and the leviathans escaped into the water supply, possessing hundreds of people." Dean laughed at your overwhelmed expression. "That's just one year, and I left a lot out. Easier to take when it's in book form, huh?"

"Did you say that Castiel was working with Crowley?"

"Also said he went mad with power. Look, I can give you the inside scoop, if you want. But we're gonna need booze... and pie."

"Why... why would you share with me?" You asked.

"You're the only one here who isn't crazy and your writing is better than anything else I've read and I'm hoping that if I get you drunk, you'll show me how this feels." He said, pointing to a passage in your story about the barmaid rolling her tongue over the head of Dean's penis and humming as she took him into her mouth.

Heat pooled in your stomach and you swallowed away the influx of saliva that occurred at the thought of blowing this man, your hero. _'Never literally drooled over a man before.'_ "Booze and pie, huh?"

"Yeah, what's your poison?" Dean asked.

"Apple." You answered, standing up from the impala's trunk. He chuckled, turning to let the false bottom down and shut the trunk. "And bourbon." You finished.

"All right. Why don't you go inside and meet my brother, assuming Becky hasn't kidnapped him again. Yeah, that's another part of the... Go protect my brother while I get us apple pie and bourbon."

You giggled and walked back toward the hotel. It seemed a bit absurd, walking past the cosplayers and fans. This was all real and no one knew. Becky rushed up to you as you walked into the lobby. "I saw you leave with Dean. I knew you two would hit it off."

"Becky, this is crazy. How could you... you know these guys. You know that they are real, and you still write the things you do?" You whispered.

"I don't know what they do behind closed doors. So, I write what I think they should do. You're so judgy. Just like Dean." Becky said, indignantly. 

"I think he has a right. I mean, we have been writing erotica about men who exist. Real men. You knew that and you continued to..."

"Look, don't focus on that, dummy. Focus on the rest. It's all real. We walked the earth at the same time as Lucifer, and survived. You just had a conversation with Dean Winchester. I was married to Sam."

"Dean said you kidnapped him. I'm sure there is more to that story, but..."

"I invited you here as a favor, okay? A favor for you and for Dean. I knew that you'd get along with them. They hate my writing just like you do."

"I don't hate your writing, Becky. I hate your content, but your ability... Well, this is exactly what you say about my writing. Dean seemed to like mine though."

"Knew he would." Becky said, looking down. You patted her shoulder and smiled as Sam walked up. 

"Hey. Where did... that guy I was with go?" He asked.

"It's okay, Sam, he told me. It's an honor, by the way." You said, offering your hand. 

He took it and shook it, lightly. "Wow. When Becky realized we were real, she hugged me and wouldn't let go. Handshake is nice." He said, with a smile. "So, where'd Dean go?"

"He went on a supply run. He's gonna let me pick his brain about everything that's happened since Swan Song, so he felt the need for pie and booze."

"Well, that's... that means he's planning to stick around for a while. Glad he mentioned that to me." Sam muttered.

"Well, that means we'll have time to talk, too." Becky piped up, happily. 

"Becky, Sam looks a bit tired, don't you think? Why don't you go reserve him a room?"

Becky nodded, enthusiastically and rushed towards the front desk. You pulled your second room key out of your pocket and handed it to him. "403, it's a full suite. Go hide."

Sam chuckled and nodded at you, walking towards the elevator. You watched as Becky tried to threaten the receptionist for a room. Dean walked in carrying a plastic bag in each hand, his eyes following yours. "What's going on there?"

"You told me to protect your brother, so I sent her to get him a room in this overbooked hotel and I sent him to hide in my room. Which is definitely where we need to go before she gets done scratching at that desk guy." You said, through a chuckle.

Dean nodded and you led him to the elevator. "So, has it started, yet? The whole 'Holy shit, it's real, I'm afraid of what I know is really out there' thing?"

You shook your head. "I'm sure that's coming, but right now, it's 'My heroes are real, I'm about to get drunk and pie high with the man who's saved the world a half dozen times'. And then there's the fact that you were flirting with me. That's a lot easier to focus on."

Dean laughed, echoing off the walls of the elevator. "I'm stealing 'pie high'." He said, as the elevator dinged up to the 4th floor. "And that wasn't flirting, _y/n_. That was a straight up proposition." 

You blushed as you walked out of the elevator and up to your door. You pushed the key card into the lock, waited for the green light, then pushed into the room. Sam walked forward with a smile. "Thank you, so much. This place is huge. Is it just you?"

"Uh, yeah. I actually got a huge deal on the room, cause my sister used to work for Hilton and... I booked the room last year."

"Really? A year in advance?" Sam asked.

"I knew I was gonna be here, might as well have a good room when I get here." You walked in, tossing your key card on the table in the living room.

"So, you are a huge fan, then? You're just in disguise as a normal person." Dean said, putting the bags on the table in front of the couch.

"Normal? What do you know about normal? Monster hunter with a fetish for pie wants to talk about normal." You muttered, flopping down on the couch.

"Fetish? I wouldn't call it... yeah, I do love me some pie." He said with a shrug, pulling a plastic container with a latticed apple pie or of the bag. 

Sam nodded, looking between the two of you. "If you don't mind, I'm gonna go take a nap. I have to locate and break into Becky's room in a few..."

"Don't worry, Sammy." Dean said, putting his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and producing a Polaroid. Sam grabbed it quickly and folded it in half to hide it from view.

"How did you-" 

"She had it on her. Guess she knew we'd search the room. Picked it off her while _y/n_ was on stage. You're welcome."

"Probably made copies. Scanned it on her computer." You said, handing Dean a plastic fork from the bag. "Her password is 'Samsluvbunn3'. The 'y' is replaced with a 3, though. Bring me paper and a pen and I'll write it down for you."

The brothers looked at you in confusion. "How?"

"I've seen her log in several times. She doesn't even hide it, at all."

"Okay." Sam said, pulling a notepad and hotel pen off of the little desk. 

You wrote the password down and handed the notepad to Sam. "It's not gonna be in her photo folder. She'll have it with her fanfic, probably."

"Wow. Um, thanks for the tips. You don't happen to know which room she's in, do you?"

"Unfortunately, that's gonna take some of that famous hunter detective work. You can feel free to take that nap, though. First room is mine, but you can have that second one." You said. 

"Thanks. Enjoy your pie." Sam said, walking into the second room and shutting the door.

Dean opened up the pie and pushed a fork into the pastry. "So, where should I start?"

You stood, walking over to grab two glasses off of a small shelf by the mini-fridge. "Well, you went to Lisa after Sam sacrificed himself, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Did the normal life thing for a while, but then I got... dragged back into the family business. Normal was killin' me, anyway, so when Sam showed up, I jumped at the chance to start up again. Shit kinda hit the fan after we figured out that Cas was workin' with Crowley, he... Lisa and Ben were put in danger. Crowley took 'em. I made Cas wipe me from their lives. It was better that way." He pulled a bottle out of the second plastic bag and opened it up, filling each glass halfway. He handed one to you and took a drink. "Keep 'em comin'." He said.

You assumed he meant questions, so you took a sip of your own. "What was Sam like without a soul?"

"He was a dick. A phenomenal hunter, but a massive dick. I got abducted, okay, by fairies, all right, and I was gone for hours. He used that time, not to look for me, but to get laid by some UFO chasing hippy chick." Dean scoffed and took a bite of pie. "He was worth the trouble getting his soul back because he was not... not the same. What he did to..." Dean looked down.

"Bobby's dead. Leviathan killed him."

Your heart fell. Bobby was your favorite secondary character. You could only imagine how Dean must feel. "I'm so sorry."

"Last year was bad. But people die, especially in the hunter life. Didn't think Bobby would go out from a bullet, but... anyway. Leviathans sucked, but now they're gone."

"What were they?"

"Monsters from purgatory, Cas brought 'em in when he took all the souls from the other side. They were the first monsters God made. Bad, bad, only thing that could kill them was to be eaten by another Leviathan. We ended up just sendin' 'em back to purgatory. Cas and I went along for the ride, unfortunately."

"You went to purgatory? What was that like?"

Dean tilted his head and took another drink. "It was... nonstop violence. Mindless, crazy... there wasn't any pie." He chuckled a bit and leaned forward.

You smiled. ' _What an amazing man, to go through what he's gone through and still be able to laugh._ ' "So... What have you been doing the last..."

"Mostly been workin' on this whole... there's a tablet that only a prophet can read. New prophet, Kevin, he's found a set of trials that will shut the gates of Hell permanently. Of course, Crowley keeps trying to-"

"Wait, you said Carver Edlund... Chuck Shurley was the prophet. Where's he?"

Dean shook his head. "We don't know. Even Cas doesn't know. We just know that, suddenly Kevin Tran was our prophet. Anyway, we've got these trials... and as soon as we get done saving Sammy from the being embarrassed by Becky Rosen, we're gonna head back home to research some more."

"Home?" That was an absurd thought.

"Yeah, see... our grandfather, Dad's dad, he was part of something called the Men of Letters. Basically a secret society tasked with running down info on all things supernatural... not fighting it, or anything, they sent that off to hunters, but... long to the short, there's this bunker with everything in the world you could possibly want, and we live there. It's home."

"Well, I am so happy you finally have a place to yourself... other than the Impala, of course."

"What about you? Where's home for you?"

"Oh, we're asking me questions, now?" You asked, taking another drink of bourbon. It had started to warm your stomach, but the look Dean was giving you was warming everywhere else. "I have an apartment. A little efficiency. This... the convention, the hotel, the travel... this is the one big thing I get to do every year. I don't see it being a continuing tradition, though. Now that I know that the fantasy is... nowhere near the..."

"You know it's real so it won't be a refuge, anymore, right?"

"Right." You said, sitting back on the couch, glass to your lips. When you looked down, Dean's hand was on your thigh. You leaned forward, putting your glass on the coffee table next to the pie, then you turned to him. "Look, if you're serious about this, Dean, I should probably fess up. I talk a big game, in my stories. But, as a geek who writes erotic fanfiction, I don't get a lot of action. I mean, I haven't been laid in... probably 2 years, so... don't expect me to, you know, be amazing."

Dean chuckled, leaning forward to lightly brush his lips across yours. "Let me judge, okay. And... it's been... a while for me, too. I haven't really felt up to, uh... 'random encounters' since that amazon."

You laughed. "You'll have to tell me about that."

"Later. Right now, I wanna see how much of that big game you can actually put into play."

It took a second for you to realize when he started kissing you, but as soon as it clicked, you responded eagerly, both hands grabbing the collar of his jacket, pulling him closer and pushing against him. His tongue pushed into your mouth and you marveled at how bourbon and apple pie mingle beautifully with the natural taste of his tongue. His hands traveled your body, leaving phantom trails of heat behind as they roamed. You pushed him back against the arm of the couch to give yourself better access to your hero, draping yourself over him and deepening the kiss. You shoved your tongue into his mouth, doing battle for the taste there. He groaned into your mouth and grabbed at your hips, pulling you close. Your hands moved up to bury in his hair as you adjusted on the couch so that you were straddling his lap.

You pulled back to breathe and Dean sat up enough to pull his jacket off. "Shirt." You said, pulling your own shirt over your head. 

He chuckled and grabbed the bottom of his dark green tee, pulling it over his head and dropping it on the floor next to yours. He made a noise of appreciation as he looked up at you, raising a hand to run fingers from the underside of your breasts to the button of your hands. "Well, for a geek who hasn't been laid in years, you look amazing."

"Well, you might not be the Adonis on the front of the books, but... I won't complain too much." You said, running your hands down his chest. 

He laughed, pulling you down for another kiss. When you pulled back, he was pulling your bra off. "Damn." He whispered, one calloused hand reaching up to lightly massage the newly exposed flesh. You gave a whining mewl as his thumb started to sweep across your nipple. "Can I say, your breasts are fantastic?"

"Can I say, let's move this to the bedroom? So I can see your 'enviable, much bigger than average'." You said, swinging your leg over so that you could stand next to the couch. You were suddenly very eager, the heat in your stomach pooling lower.

"Yes, ma'am." He said, standing and following you to the first bedroom.

You toed off your sneakers, reaching to unbutton your jeans and pull them down. Dean's hands were on your hips, easing your jeans down to pool at your feet, before you could finish the motion. You leaned back into him as his thumbs hooked in the waistband of your panties and pushed them down. One of his hands came up to your breast and the other dipped between your legs. You could feel his 'enviable, much harder than average' pressed into your back. It made you gasp. He leaned his head down and attached his mouth to your neck, nipping and sucking at the juncture where your shoulder met your neck. His middle finger dipped into you and you couldn't hold back the moan.

"Mmmh, you're loud already. I'm gonna love fucking you. See if we can't wake the whole hotel." He murmured into your ear, slipping a second finger in and scissoring them a little. 

You moaned, feeling a little dizzy. "Bed." You whined.

He chuckled, sweeping his arm under your legs and carrying you to the full size bed with way too many pillows. He tossed you gracelessly onto the bed and gave you no time to recover before he was between your legs licking stripe after stripe from your entrance to just below where you really needed his tongue to be. "Dean!" Those fingers were inside of you again, pumping slowly as his tongue circled around your clit, but not touching it. "That's-ugh, oh, my god! Stop teasing!"

He laughed, before his tongue finally pressed into your clit, rubbing firmly in left-to-right motions. You cried out, not even trying to hold back. Dean wanted to wake the hotel, by god you were gonna make the effort. The left-right motion turned to an up-down sweep as Dean's fingers curled up inside of you, just barely brushing that wonderful spot inside. "Dean, oh! Fuck! That's..." He pushed his fingers deeper and curled again, eliciting a strangled cry from you as you came, suddenly and harshly, clenching around his fingers. You pushed up on your arms and looked at him in shock as he pulled his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean.

"You're sour. I like it." He said, standing up and pulling his jeans and boxer-briefs down. His cock bounced proudly from the confines of cloth and your eyes widened. A proud smile crossed his face as you licked your lips. "You're gonna have to revise your stories."

You reached out, tentatively wrapping your hand around the base. Your fingertips just barely touched each other. Dean's eyes closed against the feeling. You slid off the bed, kneeling in front of him. "I'm... eager, don't get me wrong, but there's no way this is fitting in my mouth. Also... teeth might be accidentally employed."

"Shut up and suck my dick, _y/n_."

You scoffed, but smiled, leaning forward to run your tongue over the head. A sharp inhalation from Dean egged you on to run your tongue from the tip to the base. You opened your mouth and swirled your tongue around the head, paying special attention to the slit and then leaning forward to bring as much of him into your mouth as possible. Dean's hands twisted in your hair as you began a rhythm of sucking as much of him as you could while your hand ran up and down the base. His grunts and moans were music to your ears, sending tendrils of pleasure straight to your center.

He pulled lightly on your hair. "You keep going and it'll be over, sweetheart." He said as you pulled back, wiping the spit from your chin. "And I haven't made you scream enough, yet."

You were on your back on the bed again before you could process the change of scenery. His fingers were in you again, testing, making sure you were ready. "Shit. You're wetter than you were earlier. You get off on giving head? Well, aren't you perfect?" He said, pulling his finger out and replacing them with the head of his cock. You looked down, your body radiating heat. You registered that he was wearing a condom but you can't remember him putting one on. He started to slowly push into you, making small back and forth movements with his hips until he bottomed out in you. His eyes drifted closed as he gave you a chance to adjust. "Really haven't been with anyone for a while, huh?" He ground out.

You shook your head, clenching around him to try to facilitate your inner muscles stretching. He groaned, a sound that would have been interpreted as pain by anyone who wasn't in the room. "Never been with someone so big." You panted out. You clenched again.

"You... I'm gonna start fucking you, now, because if I don't, you're gonna strangle my dick with those kegels and then we'll be done and that's... no good for anyone." He growled. You nodded, wrapping your legs around him and shifting your hips up. That was all it took. His left hand grabbed your hip, his right arm grabbing your shoulder to hold you in place as he pulled back and slammed into you.

You screamed. It wasn't a moan, or a grunt or a squeal, it was a scream. "Oh! Fuck!" You shouted, your hands going to his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself. It didn't work. His girth was rubbing your walls like nothing you'd ever felt, and his pace was unforgiving, like he was trying to punish you for something. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Your shouts had tapered off to repeated mumblings in time with his grunts.

He let go of your hip and shoulder, reaching back to unhook your legs from his waist. He pushed your knees up to your chest, changing the angle of your pelvis. You screamed again as he slammed into you, his dick pounding your g-spot. You saw a smirk grace those full lips as he pulled back and repeated the motion, eliciting another scream. "Perfect angle." He muttered, before picking up his unforgiving pace again.

"Ah! Fuck! Dean! Ah! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" Your end was fast approaching, and you grabbed the backs of your thighs, nails digging into the skin as you started to be pushed into the headboard. Dean let go of your leg, bringing a hand between you to let his thumb press into your clit. You squeezed your eyes closed as your whole body clenched and you came so hard that you couldn't even make a sound.

"Oh, fuck!" Dean groaned, as he fell over his own ledge. He pulled out and collapsed to the bed next to you. You sat up, reaching down to pull the spent condom off of him, which granted you a shudder, before tossing it in the wastebasket next to the bed. Dean looked up at you. "That was..."

"Wow." You finished. He nodded, his eyes drifting closed. You smiled and flopped back into the pillows that were almost falling off the bed. "Dean."

"Yeah?"

"You just made my year."

He chuckled. "Well, I aim to please."

"And please, you did."

"Think Sammy slept through that?"

"I don't think anybody slept through that."

"Good. Wanna go distract Becky so we can break in and steal her laptop?"

You laughed. "I would love to. Just gotta wait until my legs start working again."

A knock came to the door. "I'm, uh, gonna leave your bra and shirts by the door." Sam sounded a bit embarrassed, but it only served to make you giggle.

"We'll be out 20, Sam. Gotta give the woman time to recuperate."

************************

It had been ridiculously easy to distract Becky with stories of Dean flirting with you. It had been less easy to pull yourself away once Dean and Sam walked out of the elevator and flashed a thumbs-up at you. Once you managed it, you learned that you'd been right about her password and right about where the pictures were. Sam had felt it was a good idea to just clear the hard drive completely, leaving it empty of fic and pics. You followed them out to the parking lot, running your hand over 'Baby's' hood. "So, I guess this is 'goodbye'?"

Dean nodded. "Big things happening. Always big things happening. Uh, here." He said, pulling out a piece of paper and pen. He wrote a phone number down and handed it to you. "This is my personal cell. You ever need anything, or... feel like travelin' to Kansas, you give me a call. I'll give you a ride in the Impala next time."

"A ride? Or a 'ride'?" You asked.

"Baby, I'll ride you anywhere you want." Dean responded, throwing his bag in the backseat.

Sam cleared his throat and waved a little as he opened the passenger door. "Thanks for your help, _y/n_." he said before getting into the car.

"I think we made your brother uncomfortable, Dean."

"It's been a while since he heard the sweet, sweet sounds of me fucking a woman into oblivion. I'm really glad you were here. I mean, glad I met you."

"I'm glad you exist. So, go save the world from the demon horde, Winchester. I'm sure we'll meet again."

"Of course, we will. I told you, I don't do random encounters anymore."

"And you promised to tell me about that."

"Yes, I did. So, you better use that number."

"Yes, sir." You said, leaning up and pulling him down into you for a deep kiss.

He pulled away and opened the driver's door. He gave one more look to you before getting into his precious car and turning the ignition. You watched the Winchesters drive away, before trudging back into the hotel. This was definitely the last convention you'd attend.


End file.
